


take your hand in mine

by jbaecob



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluff, Homesickness, Jacob is sad, M/M, Platonic Relationship, also!!, angsty jacob, happy ending!, i dont know why but, implied bbangkyu, kinda communication failure, lapslock, mostly - Freeform, pre-debut!the boyz, sangyeon is Dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14273532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbaecob/pseuds/jbaecob
Summary: jacob is crying. sangyeon can't imagine why.





	take your hand in mine

**Author's Note:**

> i!!!! apologise because one, this is completely random and uncalled for and two, i didn't want to make it Deep and Sad and Wise bc i know they simply Didn't talk like that during predebut days. they just didn't okay trust me i was there i was the lack of communication 
> 
> anyway. i hope i get to post better things later bc bih

people threaten to feel and get lost all the time. it’s part of the life path; it’ll feel safe for some time, then everything you now will most probably get destroyed by some odd universe force.

the majority of time he had passed in another country, supposedly the one he should have lived in during his childhood, it made him feel bottled up instead. suffocated, gasping for air, claustrophobic. it wasn't supposed to be like that. he needed to act like the grown up man he was, like the idol he wish he was, like the great singer he aimed to be. sometimes, all hope he gets from his parents on the other side of the globe fades away and he’s left to feel all the pain and struggle alone - at least, lately. he’s not feeling too well.

it’s not that he can’t take criticism. he takes it too well, even, always looking up to their dance teacher and best performers to improve his own skills. he’s is careful when it comes to absorb their manager’s words, and even the members who are training for more time than him. he’s always listening carefully to their voice instructor, which is oddly familiar to the one he had back home.

home.

then it hits him, there, in the cramped room he shares with another trainee, who doesn't get to see him breaking down because he’s out: he’s homesick.

it takes him two seconds to actually let out a sob and climb up to his bunk bed from the chair he was previously occupying (where he was unsuccessfully trying to put his frustrations into lyrics). he doesn't want to let that out, doesn't want to show weakness, doesn't want anyone to hear; but he can't, and the more he tries to conceal the sobs, the louder they get, and he isn't sure if there's anyone listening. he’s grabbing his pillow like a lifeline and he thinks about his mother while her encouraging words sounds a lot quieter in his troubled mind. _i’m proud of you no matter what, you know that? i could never ask for a more precious son. you are my most valuable thing, jacob. and i’ll keep loving you from afar, your whole family and i. this is not a farewell, son!_

but instead of giving him strength, knowing that his mother supports him through all his decisions, whom he could grab onto for his whole life, it makes him _weaker_. it makes him feel pathetic for missing her even more and missing his home and his street and the little park outside were the sun rays would infiltrate from the tree leaves when they were full enough. it makes him miss school, and his friends, and the church, and his music teacher. it makes his throat feel more rough, aching with the force he was doing to tone down his sobs, it makes his eyes feel even more puffed out and heavy, it makes his chest tight and small.

and that’s how sangyeon, his roommate, finds him.

  
  


sangyeon’s steps are light due the mood he gets from walking outside for a bit. it helps him think better about his decisions and see things from another view and, most of all, keeps him away from thinking he’s enclosured. he opens the front door to a tickle fight from two of the trainees and lets out a chuckle to make sure he’s heard when he asks, “who lost in mario kart?”, pushing a black mask out of his face.

“changmin,” the apparently older one grits out, “and his sore ass is making me pay for it!”

“you keep cheating! this is not how i do!” they keep fighting until younghoon’s hand on changmin’s hair become softer and the smaller boy gets embarrassed, untangling himself out of the "fight” to leave. sangyeon watches it silently, offering a pat on changmin’s shoulder when him and his bright cheeks walk past to hide in the kitchen.

“stop frightening the youngsters, you creep,” he walks to the couch, where younghoon still is, and prods him on the forehead. “where are the others?” he looks around for confirmation; there were just those two in the living room.

“from what i’ve heard, half of them are out to get ice cream with manager, the other half is sleeping.” his tone seems uninterested and his fingers are fast to try the game another time.

“great. i need everyone together after dinner to make our weekly reunion. pass the word?”

“of course.” with his eyes trained to the screen, he doesn't wave back when sangyeon retreats to his shared room.

he walks around before getting there, though. inspects, silently, every room to make sure of the ones who stayed and the ones who choose to walk around like him, to ease his concerned mind. it doesn't need to be like that, he knows that. the guys are not stupid or that much younger than him, in their majority. but the real youngers, the maknaes, are always in his mind. he’s making sure they get enough rest, enough food, enough time to study and to call their parents. he’s not a leader yet, no one has said a word about it, yet it feels like he’s got the most to think about for being the older out of another eleven trainees. he’s not complaining, it’s from his nature to get a little worked up when it comes to his friends.

when he starts getting closer to his room, there are two things running on his mind, and his hands get clammy right away: one, there’s definitely someone crying in there, and two, it can't be no one other than his roommate; the kid that came from canada. who’s not a kid anymore, as they have almost the same age, the other being the second oldest in line.

he fights the urge to turn around to let him have his moment and gets closer to the wooden door, breathing one, two times before making sure it’s the right thing to do.

it gets him out of guard when he thinks about overprotecting the youngers, fussing around them as if he’s from the family, only treating them with kindness and discipline.

when he opens the door, he doesn't know what he expected after having _proof_ that there was someone surely crying, but the actual image makes him feel a bit uneasy.

the boy is in his bed, which is the one in the bottom, and he seems almost knocked out, but his sobs are still heard. from what sangyeon could see, he wasn't wearing comfortable clothes to be laying down and his eyes were puffy, reddened.

he could feel a lot of things at that moment, from pity to despair to protectiveness, but the most loud noise in his head makes him reach out to the doorknob and feel _guilt_ spread in his chest. why hadn't he seen there was one not feeling bright enough? why wasn't he able to talk to him properly? why did he have to find the other almost dried out from his silent cry?

his most concerned thoughts are always so directed to the ones he thinks that need him the most, that he ended up neglecting the ones who are, still, under his wings. but he stammers to himself _, you are not their leader. you are_ not _their leader._

he gave light steps to the other’s huddled form and it seemed that it finally hit to him; he was not alone in the room anymore. a struggled sob was heard and he's hurriedly put the pillow in his face, hands gripping the fabric with too much force, heart probably trying to escape his ribcage.

“hey,” he tries, without coming closer to the bed, because in his place he would get annoyed if anyone tried to. “you don't have to talk right now, so don't get embarrassed,” it almost comes out to loud, but sangyeon conceals his own messy mind to not let him hear through his despair.

he stays still but the pillow is tightly wrapped in his arms, and his fingers are still painfully gripping on it. he sees the other start shaking again and it sends a hundred alarms off, his knees bending down to put himself on the other’s eye level.

“hey, it’s just me,” he feels his forehead crinkle with concern when his only response is another sob, and he starts thinking about on when did that guy show he was prone to cry like that or sangyeon was just a lot blind. from what he could remember, he was just too quiet for his own good, but other than that he was focused, hardworking and a lot talented. sangyeon didn't know what could make him fall weak like this unless-

unless he was feeling homesick. _of course, sangyeon. how could you be so stupid._

on his knees he felt less threatening than standing up, so it was easier to reach out and touch his hand. the response was not something he was expecting, but he wasn't even sure of what he was expecting anyway, so it got him surprised; the guy grabbed his hand, and with that his breathing subsided.

sangyeon put a lot of effort in his voice when he blurted out, “keep grabbing on me for as long as you need.” and with that, he sat on the floor, suddenly feeling the weight of a troubled silence dipping on his shoulders. he felt all the hopelessness in that handhold, the weakness in the way his fingers almost didn't bother when sangyeon started to unconsciously draw little patterns on his knuckles. he studied that hand for some minutes, giving a look at the calloused fingers, remembering how jacob (the name finally popped on his mind because the guys keep chanting _jacob! jacob!_ when they want a quick song played, laughter filling the air when he blurts out some funny lyrics about being sweating and tired, and he smiles to himself) looks the brightest when he’s playing guitar and singing along. he feels a pang of something when he notices how they never get to sit down and talk, how jacob never shares his concerns, and even how sangyeon never shares his with him, despite being the second oldest. he notices that all the things he knows about him is what everyone else knows: he’s canadian, a lot quiet, likes playing guitar and writing lyrics. that’s that. he also knows he doesn't like scary things and spicy food. 

maybe this outline made him look like a softie, and this thought alone almost sent out a quiet chuckle that he barely could contain before having to explain himself. but the fact that he couldn't be able to read beyond that, couldn't tell that the other was struggling to get his grounds, couldn't- he couldn't feel comfortable around him, probably. perhaps it was the way jacob tiptoed around everyone and didn't seem to click with them, hence the language barrier (that was, unsurprisingly, another thing sangyeon almost entirely excluded from the facts about the bright eyed guy) or maybe something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

drawing his attention to him again, he almost thought jacob had fell asleep, breath evened out, eyes shut tight - but he heaved a sigh, long, intercurted with the leftovers of a quiet sob when he said, “i didn't want anyone to see t-this,” with a tiny, rejected voice. sangyeon still held his hand, still looked at him when he tried to hide out again.

“well, i figured.” he cleared his throat, “but i expected something more like a _thank you_ , you know-” he said that out of joking, of course, but the effect was visible as jacob stiffened and started blurting out weaks _oh my god i’m so sorry_ in both english and broken korean. it would made sangyeon smile from ear to ear, if he was being honest, but his duty now was to make him stop blabbering.

“hey hey, it’s okay, jacob. i was just kidding, really,” with their hands still clasped, he motioned him to give a bit of space so they could lie down together. sangyeon would feel more like a big brother.

“look,” he started once jacob stopped stabbing his ribs with an elbow, “i understand if you don't talk much. but i appreciate if you try,” he gave his hand a little squeeze.

the mattress of that bunk bed was tiny even for one grown person, and even more for two of them, but they found a way.

  


he wasn't planning on that. he didn't plan anything, to be honest, but that was beyond his first assumptions. he didn't count on his roommate coming back and seeing him that way, showing his weakness on such a specific, sensible topic. he knew some thing about being homesick, but now it was an experience, an almost palpable thing he could get a grip onto, trying to comprehend what thing (or things) triggered him that way.

but at that moment, he could only breathe deeply, still with the threat of a sob trying to break out from his lungs while sangyeon nursed his injured self.

he wished their room was a bit more large than that, so their beds could actually comport two guys comfortably, which was not the case right now, and he would be tremendously more secure.

but it wasn't entirely bad. thinking about his mother country in that cramped space made him want to go out there and catch the first fly to home, yes, but still- there was something about the way they were silent, with the only light coming from the lamp he left on before coming to bed, and the comfortable temperature despite being near to the winter.

he relished on that feeling for some time. he had that chance, he would try to make it worth a pause on his sore, definitely not physical wounds. sangyeon still held his hand and he was the one to squeeze it this time.

“i’m not sure if i can convey much, but- but i have this aching, dull feeling here,” the free hand found his chest and sangyeon was looking at him now, “i’m sure it’ll stop, but i wish i didn't feel it in first place.” his voice sounded too raspy in his own ears. too mumbled, too weak. it was a sign that he let his barriers fall down, he let his most troubled thoughts take over, he let them be showed to the prying eyes.

“in my opinion, it makes us stronger.” he turned his head to him, a muffle sound, and murmured, “i can see you beating yourself up for that.”

instead of saying something about that being a lie, jacob nodded briefly. he didn't need to lie to himself.

“what can i do to make you think differently?”

he shook his head and after that, the silence took place permanently in the room. for what seemed like a very long time, jacob’s thoughts calmed themselves as he canalized his major concerns on a hand holding. thankfully, sangyeon seemed wise enough to know that they didn't need to say anything else to prevent him from having another breakdown.

in a too stretched period of time, overworking himself to stop thinking about the things that had brought him back to his comfort zone, to his most beloved people and to a time where he didn't stress over such things as “ _is everyone feeding themselves properly?_ ” - he needed to take the time left and make it different.

“i’m just going to say one more thing before i leave you to… uh, take yourself back to normal,” sangyeon instantly became awkward and jacob was suddenly reminded that they _still_ had that kind of thing taking them back from acting normal around each other, “we can become your home, too.”

and if jacob said he was expecting that, he would be lying shamelessly. what he didn't even think it would happen in a billion years, thought, was the sloppy kiss sangyeon gave him in his cheek.

it was fast, existing for less than a second, just a brush of his lips against the right side of his face; jacob’s skin must have felt hot to the touch after that.

“if someone ask you if that happened, i’m going to deny it until i lose my voice.”

the feeling of a laugh getting bigger inside you felt like a huge, tremendous relief after making yourself think you can't do it anymore, everything is going to fade away before your eyes. what made him laugh more after that was the way sangyeon stumbled across the room to get to the door, and then he said, “if you’re feeling better, take a shower and help me make dinner,” he sighed heavily after that, “we’re having our weekly reunion. you know. the one we have every week.”

“yeah, i’m going to do that.” his voice was filled with a spark of something as he motioned to sit on the mattress. “thank you, sangyeon.”

“just doing- uh... my job.” recollecting himself after showing his oddest feature seemed ease for sangyeon. then, he broke into an embarrassed smile and jacob saw the tip of his ears getting red again. he exited the room after that.

  
_we can become your home, too_. he liked on how that sounded.

**Author's Note:**

> if youre here congratz! and yes i made sangyeon forget jacob's name you know huh old people  
> i want yall to talk to me on what i've written bc i thought like, um maybe sangyeon felt like the other were just uh doing good and stopped paying attention to them someday (it doesnt mean i think he did it or does it wtf no) but in That context. imagine the second oldest not Feeling it and missing home and just that terrible things you feel randomly u know  
> if yall have thoughts on this dont make me look like the Angsty Writer because im NOT 99% of the things i write is pure unshaken fluff  
> thats it goodbye thank you for coming to my ted talk !


End file.
